got a weak spot
by flowermasters
Summary: Hux and Kylo have a son. Also, feelings. AU where Kylo is a girl.
A/N: I missed fair Domhnall's birthday by a couple hours in my timezone, wah. This thing is nothing but dreadfully fluffy domesticity, which is how you know that finals week basically crushed my soul. The title comes from "I Am Not a Robot" by Marina and the Diamonds (which has fuck all to do with this but is a Hux song.)

Warnings for: cisgirl Kylo, Kylo/Hux, references to childbirth/breastfeeding/baby things.

* * *

At this hour, the house is nearly silent, save for the omnipresent whistling of the wind across the plains. Hux has long since grown used to that dreadful howling; now it serves as background noise while he reads over some neglected reports. Kylo and Padmé, two of the noisiest people Hux has ever known, are still asleep, oblivious to the dawn light peeking in through the windows. For now, it's just Hux and the boy, both quiet and wakeful.

He's surprisingly alert for someone only a few hours old; Padmé was that way, too, but not to this extent. Almost every time Hux glances over at the bassinet – handcrafted by Kylo months before and currently sitting beside their bed – Daniel looks back at him with drowsy blue eyes. "Go to sleep," Hux suggests, giving the bassinet a gentle nudge with his foot to set it rocking again. "It's early yet. You won't miss anything."

Daniel yawns delicately, but doesn't close his eyes, despite being unable to see very much at all at this stage of his life. He's staring at what, to him, is just a very large blur. Hux chalks this behavior up to Kylo-given stubbornness and goes back to his work, occasionally sipping from his mug of tea and nudging the bassinet to keep it rocking.

Hux can tell when Kylo wakes, because she grumbles faintly and shifts against the mound of pillows she's currently propped up against. Hux allows Kylo a moment to collect herself, hurriedly attempting to finish the paragraph he's reading before she gathers her wits about her – a charmingly arduous process most mornings.

"Hux," Kylo mumbles finally, reaching up to sleepily fumble with the clasps on her tunic. "Hand me the baby."

Hux sets down his pad and mug, frowning. "Is he hungry? He hasn't let on," he says, even as he lifts Daniel's swaddled form and transfers him to Kylo. When Padmé was a newborn, she'd squalled quite regularly – still does, as a matter of fact, if something displeases her. Daniel hasn't made so much as a peep since his first cry, and even that had been rather subdued; truthfully, Hux finds his complacency sort of eerie.

"Don't call him that," Kylo mutters absently, focused on tending to Daniel but still, as always, listening to things she shouldn't be.

"I didn't call him anything," Hux says, rolling his eyes. "It's just strange that he doesn't cry. Padmé cried."

"That's because Padmé is a little brat," Kylo says fondly.

"Mm, I do wonder where she got that from," Hux says dryly. He picks up his datapad, although he knows he won't be able to get much of anything done for the moment; it's rather distracting, being next to Kylo while she does this. She hums and talks and sometimes even sings, low and soft when she thinks Hux isn't paying attention. She favors what Hux suspects are half-remembered Alderaanian love songs, judging by the fact that he's never even heard of any of them.

"Go someplace else, then, if I'm distracting you from your administrative fun," Kylo suggests, giving Daniel a little nudge to keep him awake when he threatens to doze off in her arms. A bluff, Hux suspects; she doesn't really want him to go anywhere, and would fall into one of her moods if he did. Fortunately for everyone involved, Hux has no real desire to relocate.

When Hux merely reaches for his tea instead of offering up a retort, Kylo changes the subject. She gives a little hum, using the hand not currently supporting Daniel to stroke lightly at his downy red hair. "It's not fair," Kylo says, mildly petulant. "He looks so much like you."

Hux raises an eyebrow at her. "Well. Perhaps mine isn't the _best_ assortment of features in the galaxy, but you've never complained before."

"Shut up," Kylo says, giving Hux's leg a nudge with her foot. The movement rouses Daniel; he'd been lulled to sleep again. "I carried him around all that time. The least he could do is look like me."

"He does, a little," Hux muses. "My ears don't stick out quite so much."

Kylo prods him again, muttering a string of obscenities at him even as she turns her head away in an effort to hide her smile. Hux is momentarily and unwillingly struck by her in that moment; she looks as worn out and peaky as ever, with dark circles under her eyes and tangled hair, but she is also lovely. It fills Hux with the contradictory feeling he's come to associate with Kylo, some indefatigable weakness. The moment passes, of course, but Hux is somewhat reluctant to let go of it.

Kylo has already gone back to stroking Daniel's hair, murmuring nonsense to him, when Hux asks, "When will your mother be here?"

They haven't discussed it, because of _course_ they haven't, but Hux knows Organa is coming. He'd actually expected her to be here sooner, but – her schedule doesn't operate around the whims of a newborn. "Later today, I think," Kylo says, glancing at Hux as if to gauge his reaction to this statement. He purposefully doesn't give her one. Her mother remains a touchy subject, and likely always will.

"Later today?" Hux repeats. "How much later today?"

"I'm not a chronometer, Hux," Kylo snaps, still a bit too exhausted to tolerate much pestering. "Why does it matter?"

"It _matters_ because there are things to be done," Hux explains somewhat irritably, although that's not entirely true. Most of his work can be put off until a later date, though he'd rather stay on top of things. There's the children to consider, of course. Padmé had been mercifully unable to stay awake even with all the unusual goings-on, but she's sure to rise soon. Hux had made it plain that the midwife needn't bother coming back to check on Kylo ("My wife will send for you if necessary," had been his exact words, to which Kylo had let out a growl audible even in the kitchen), but these people are so unnaturally _friendly_ that he can't really be sure his message had been received.

Hux finds it continually baffling that he's been brought to this point, fretting over mundanities, after all that has come before. It's that weakness making itself known again, trying to keep any and all outsiders away from this place, the only one that matters.

Kylo's expression softens. "We'll have fair warning before Leia gets here – or anybody else, for that matter," she says. "In the meantime, Padmé's awake."

Right on cue, Padmé lets out an imperious call of, "Up."

Kylo raises her eyebrows at Hux expectantly. "Knock yourself out," she tells him, moving to awkwardly refasten her tunic with one hand.

Hux rolls his eyes at Kylo, then sets his things down and rises from the pallet. The longer she's kept waiting, the more inclined to fit-pitching Padmé becomes. Padmé is standing up in her crib, her small face peeking out between the sheer curtains which hang overhead. When she sees Hux approaching, she shoves her hands through the gap in the curtains, too. "Up," she says impatiently.

"Good morning to you, too," Hux tells her, without much reproach.

Padmé frowns at him. "Up," she repeats. This time Hux gives in, but only because he knows if he antagonizes her any longer, she'll raise a fuss. Much like Kylo's, Padmé's fits are loud and tend to involve things getting thrown about, or smashed, or otherwise destroyed.

Padmé allows Hux to change her and feed her – the two seem to be necessary evils in her mind – but once he starts trying to comb her hair and generally make her presentable, she starts squirming and complaining. "No," she says. Then, insistently, "Mama."

"She's resting," Hux informs her, neatly avoiding Padmé's little fists as she flails at him.

Padmé continues attempting to wriggle free of his hold, and Hux sighs before letting her down. "Oh, bloody hell, fine," he says. "You're entirely too worked up about this. Your brother can't even do anything interesting yet."

Heedlessly, Padmé hurries from the kitchen as fast as her little legs will carry her; Hux follows at a more reasonable pace. "Little one," Kylo says by way of a greeting, as Padmé waits impatiently for Hux to lift her up onto the pallet and deposit her at Kylo's side. Once there, she looks curiously at her brother, now dozing with his face tucked against Kylo's tunic.

"Baby," Padmé says thoughtfully.

"Yes," Kylo says, studying Padmé with her dark eyes. "Danny."

"Oh, don't," Hux says irritably, settling himself on the edge of the bed. Padmé hardly notices him, no doubt too busy puzzling over where this strange new being has come from. "We agreed, no nicknames."

"I told you, that's what I called him in the dream," Kylo says placidly, watching as Padmé leans in til she's face-to-face with Daniel.

"I knew I was going to regret letting you name him based off some dream," Hux mutters. He'd been forced to develop a deeper respect for Kylo's premonitory dreams given recent events – namely, when she foretold that something unpleasant would happen to him, and then he'd bloody well ended up kidnapped – but Hux has his doubts about this one. It's far too late now, of course, but still.

"Hux," Kylo says abruptly – a warning. Before Hux even has a chance to process what's about to happen, Padmé reaches out and gives her brother a stiff poke, right in his soft, vulnerable cheek. Daniel scrunches his face up and lets out a displeased whimper, much to Padmé's apparent confusion. She seems to have been angling for some sort of reaction, but not that one.

"No, Padmé," Kylo says, giving her a severe look even as she soothingly strokes Daniel's face. "You can't do that. You'll hurt him."

Padmé's lower lip wobbles threateningly, and she turns to Hux, clearly miffed at being reprimanded. Hux permits her to clamber into his lap. "She didn't know any better," Hux says.

"She nearly took out his eye," Kylo points out. "You're being too easy on her."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hux says, as he gives the top of Padmé's head a pat. He's never before been accused of being _too_ nice about something – or even nice at all – and the idea really is sort of laughable. If he's too easy on Padmé, it's because he must be; he won't disappoint her this early. She's still little enough to love him unquestioningly, after all. That won't always be the case.

Padmé sulks for a moment longer, but when no further reproach is forthcoming, she rapidly loses interest in the situation. She reminds Hux of himself in that way; while Padmé may be prone to rages like her mother, strangely she seems to understand their fruitlessness. "Down now," she demands, squirming. She follows this with a stream of meaningful nonsense, the most salient bit of which is "toys."

"Alright, alright," Hux says, lifting her from his lap and setting her on the floor. She totters away, nose smartly in the air. Hux watches, vaguely entertained, as Padmé amuses herself by banging a rattle on the side of her toy chest repeatedly. It makes quite the din, but – at least it's easier to tune out than screaming.

Kylo watches this display as well, her expression half fond and half thoughtful. "What is it?" Hux asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Nothing," Kylo hums. She's got that _look_ , the one that signals she's about to have some great outpouring of feeling, any feeling. Hux has come to recognize it, and braces himself accordingly. "Sometimes I don't know how we made them."

Hux ogles her for a moment. "Tell me you're joking."

"Oh, shut _up_ ," Kylo says, without any real menace. "I just mean – how _we_ made them. Such small and innocent things."

Hux knows he's not – especially _gifted_ , when it comes to feelings. He tolerates his own, and with a bit of effort he can generally navigate Kylo's moods, mercurial as they may be. This one, though – this one resonates, and he knows Kylo can tell when she reaches for his hand with one of her own and twines their fingers together. "Small, yes," Hux agrees, as Padmé throws one of her toys at the floor with a clatter so loud that it startles Daniel awake. "Innocent, perhaps not."

Kylo snorts, and Hux withholds a sigh of relief, the crisis having been successfully avoided. Kylo squeezes his hand and then releases it before shifting into a more upright position. "Take him," she says bossily, offering the baby. Hux does as he's told, then watches as Kylo gingerly kicks the blankets off herself and gets up.

"Aren't you tired?" Hux asks, raising an eyebrow at her. It isn't so much that he's concerned about her wellbeing, because Kylo has survived far worse; mostly, he just wants to avoid any exhaustion-related crankiness later in the day. Also, he'd expected to lounge about with her for a little while longer, and sort of resents the switch-up.

"I need to shower," Kylo says, which is not untrue. "It's like you said – there are things to be done. Can you manage both of them?"

Hux doesn't dignify that frankly insulting question with a response, but something about the nasty look he gives Kylo makes her start snickering at him. She walks toward the fresher, pausing briefly to duck down and kiss Padmé's hair as she goes (Padmé hardly notices.) Hux glances downward, perhaps to make a comment about all of this to Daniel, but finds him oblivious, soundly asleep at last.


End file.
